


I'll Be Good

by keraunoscopia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: "I thought I saw the devil this morning looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue, with the warning, to help me see myself clearer. I never meant to start a fire. I never meant to make you bleed, I’ll be a better man today." They've been together for three years, two months and eleven days, and he's gotten pretty good at hiding the marks.





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I put in the tags, but to reiterate, there are portions of this that may be upsetting to some. This deals with PTSD, Rape/Torture, attempted suicide and abuse. Please, don't read if it might be triggering to you. 
> 
> Additionally, this is not exactly a song fic, but was definitely inspired by the song "I'll be Good" by Jaymes Young, and I recommend listening to it before/while reading this piece.

Sonny gripped the edges of the marble sink so tightly his knuckles were turning a ghastly shade of white. He took a ragged breath in, and another back out, his head bowed like he was praying for absolution. His straw colored locks, darkened with sweat were falling into his eyes, and his skin was slick, almost dripping. 

There was a knock on the door, but Sonny either couldn’t hear it, or refused to acknowledge. He tried to draw in another breath, but it was like there was cotton where his lungs had been. “Dominick,” the voice, tinged with concern was enough to pull Sonny’s gaze away from the bottom of the sink. 

The door between them is solid oak, thick, and heavy, but it might as well be the meter-thick walls of a stone fortress. He’d been miles away for months now. There’s another knock on the door, and another “Dominick?” He could hear the concern fading way to a panicked urgency, but it was like he was hearing it from under water, tidal waves crashing just above him. The door knob wasn’t much more than an arms length away, but the more he tried to pull his hands off the edges of the sink, the further away it seemed. “Dominick, I’m coming in,” the doorknob turned, and his breath caught in his throat with a hitch. He wanted to say no, wanted to keep the door closed, but he can’t manage to draw out the words. _Stay away from me!_ He screamed in his head, and if his mouth had been at all under control of his brain, it would have torn at his throat and echoed against the cool tile walls. 

Rafael stood in the door way, hand still on the brass knob. Sonny couldn’t meet his gaze, but he knew exactly what the older man looked like anyway, panic-struck, cotton pajamas still wrinkled from sleep. Sonny knew too, the expression of relief that was sure to flood across Rafael’s face when he realized that Sonny was okay, if you used the definition in a literal sense. 

“Nicky,” his voice cracked, and Sonny looked up, finally meeting his eye and Sonny could have sworn he was going to lose exactly as much as he had managed to pull together. The black and blue ring around Rafael’s eye, swollen and tender punched a hole right into Sonny’s gut. 

Sonny dropped to his knees, rattling the creaky floors under Rafael’s feet, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears were pooling in his eyes before he could blink, and he reached his hands out, splaying them across the dark tile floors to keep himself from falling forward. Great, heaving sobs wrack his body, and his elbows trembled from his own weight. 

Rafael wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees, right next to Sonny, to take him in his arms, pull him into the shower and calm him down. But the rattling of the floors made him flinch, and he couldn’t bring himself to close the gap between them. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling as he attempted to find his resolve. 

“Rafi,” Sonny choked out between sobs, face wet with tears. He wanted to tell him to go, wanted to tell him to run as far away from there as he could get, wanted to tell him to not look back, but he can’t manage the words. “Please,” he cries, “I’ll be good… I’ll be good,” he recited it like a refrain, bowed before the lord. 

 

It had started nearly a year ago, a particularly difficult case. A serial rapist, serial torturer, serial murderer who had been targeting gay male prostitutes. Sonny had dropped off the radar for four days, and Rafael hadn’t even been told that Sonny was going undercover until he called Liv after the second day, knowing that Sonny wasn’t one to ignore texts. She had offered little explanation, and the next time he heard from her, she was letting him know that Sonny was okay, in the hospital, still unconscious, but okay. 

With a reckless disregard for the speed limit he had practically flown to the hospital from the courthouse, the fact that he had a hearing not even crossing his mind. He had burst through the doors with such a velocity that his shoes made that terrible screeching sound, and his breath had caught in his throat at the sight of Sonny- or what was visible between bandages. Liv had been sitting next to the bed, her hands clutching the gaunt hand of the Italian detective. Rafael could see the tears welling in her eyes, but his blazed with the ferocity that only a Cuban could manage. 

“What the fuck did you do,” he snarled at her. He had seen Sonny alive and well exactly four days ago, and that had been cause enough for concern, but this was unimaginable. “What the fuck did you do,” he repeated, stepping towards her. He wasn’t a tall man, but his presence was enough to make Olivia flinch. 

“He was undercover. We lost contact with him two days ago but that wasn’t supposed to be a concern, it wasn’t supposed to happen this fast.” Her voice was cracking too, but Rafael couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“You didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me that you lost contact, you didn’t even tell me he was going undercover,” Rafael didn’t care that he was screaming in the middle of the intensive care unit. “What the fuck happened.” His face dropped as he took another step closer, concern washing over the rage. 

“He,” her voice cracked again, “he was supposed to be undercover as a hooker, to lure out the perp. He had an emergency phone, all he had to do was turn it on and the GPS would activate…” Her responses didn’t answer his questions. None of that explained how Sonny, sweet, adorable, annoying Sonny had ended up there in the hospital. 

“Olivia,” his tongue was sharp though he settled into the seat opposite hers, reaching out to touch Sonny’s arm. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“We don’t really know,” She responded carefully, “the injuries are,” Olivia struggled with the words. They’d faced countless, unimaginable horrors, but to describe this, it was almost too much for her. “Consistent with the other vics. Torture, sodomy,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “He was found on the front steps of the station, unconscious.” She couldn’t bring herself to add that he had been left there on the sidewalk, naked and bleeding, without anyone willing to come forward as a witness. 

Sonny didn’t have anything to add to the description of the horror when he woke up, thirty two hours later. Rafael didn’t ask him, but the doctors did, the nurses, other officers. Sonny just shook his head, but they already knew enough. 

Rafael took him home to their apartment, and Sonny reassured him that he was fine. The bright, radiant smile was a relief, and they believed him. It really hadn’t seemed like much had changed. Rafael was more cautious around him, stopped hugging him from behind, made his presence known before reaching out to touch him. Sonny never flinched, but Rafael wasn’t sure if he could have handled it if Sonny flinched away from him. 

But things had gone back to normal eventually, a few months later, except that Rafael would trace the scars on Sonny’s back and chest, and thighs while he was sleeping in their bed, and that Sonny always seemed to manage to find an excuse to fall asleep with the light on. 

It was four months after it happened when Rafael woke up, struggling for breath. He wasn’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen, or the darkness shrouding their room, but he didn’t realize it was Sonny at first, on top of him with his hands around his neck, eyes piercing. Rafael gasped for breath, clawing at Sonny’s hands to peel them away from his neck, and he finally managed to push Sonny off of him, a deafening thud as the detective hit the floor, and Rafael stumbled back trying to catch is breath. 

“Rafi?” Sonny asked from the floor, chest heaving. “Wh-what?” he stammered, hands shaking. Fear flashed across Rafael’s face as Sonny stood up, but Sonny didn’t seem to recognize the expression. “I had the worst nightmare,” he said. 

Rafael’s hands reached up to his throat, and he could feel the marks forming, etched into his skin. From across the room he could see the bloody scratches at Sonny’s wrists. “Sonny,” he choked out, but it was dawning on both of them, what had happened. 

Sonny returned to counseling that day, and Rafael reminded himself over and over that Sonny hadn’t meant it as he went about his day, thankful that his high collared shirts covered enough of the marks to assuage suspicion. 

It wasn’t the only time though. The next time wasn’t even a month later, Rafael woke up with Sonny clawing at his chest, deep welts across his skin, and it took him twice as long to get Sonny to come to. That was the first time Sonny had locked himself in the bathroom, the sight of the scratches too much for him to bear. 

It was a month after that when Rafael came home to find Sonny on the cold tile bathroom floor, vomit pooled next to him, an empty pill bottle in his hand. Rafael had called an ambulance immediately, thanking a god he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore that Sonny’s pistol was still locked in the hall closet. And he had pulled Sonny’s limp body into the shower, cradling him with the water cold as ice cascading down their bodies. 

Sonny came to before the ambulance arrived, and Rafael agreed to send them away with the promise that Sonny would see his therapist and figure out an inpatient program. Sonny was gone for almost two weeks, the two loneliest weeks of Rafael’s life, and he found himself on Sonny’s side of the bed, curled around the pillow that still smelled like him, every morning. 

Rafael didn’t know how to act around Sonny when he finally came home, but Sonny had his smile back, radiant and warm. Rafael was almost convinced that things were better. They fell back into their old routines, staying up late reading books to each other, or watching old films, cooking dinner when they both managed to get home at a reasonable hour. 

It was going so well that next time Rafael woke up, Sonny’s hands gripping his shoulders so tightly that his nails drew blood, he started crying. It wasn’t that it hurt, he’d been hurt worse, it was the realization that things weren’t as okay as he had thought. Sonny had locked himself in the bathroom again, and that was when Rafael had seen the newspaper that Sonny had been reading before bed. _Chelsea Butcher Strikes Again._

Rafael had known that he was still out there, they were all acutely aware of the fact that Sonny’s attacker had disappeared into the wind when he dumped the detective off on the station steps. There hadn’t been any leads in the case until this. 

Rafael forced his way into the bathroom and pulled Sonny into a hug. He could feel the taller man trembling as he relaxed into the embrace. “Its okay,” Rafael murmured into his ear, pressing his lips to Sonny’s temple. “Mi Corazon, I will kill anyone who tries to touch you again.” His words weren’t more than a whisper, and it was the most they had talked about what had happened since that day in the hospital, but Sonny was sure that Rafael meant it. 

The episodes didn’t stop though. They went weeks, sometimes months between, but Sonny was more and more withdrawn after each one. He had been put on desk duty after the stint in inpatient care but still managed to come home after Rafael had settled into bed more often than not, and Rafael couldn’t remember the last time they’d had any sort of intimate interactions. 

“I’ll be good,” Sonny murmured again, his heaves settling some. Rafael took a step forward before sitting down on the floor next to Sonny. He reached over, pulling Sonny’s chin up gingerly. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Rafael replied. “We can’t keep pretending you’re, we’re not falling apart. I love you, more than you could possibly know, but I can’t help you, and you won’t let me in.”

The tears were welling in Sonny’s eyes again, and Rafael had to look away. His resolve was crumbling right before him, and for a moment, being Sonny’s punching bag seemed preferable to causing him more pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Sonny’s voice cracked, “I’m so sorry Rafi, I’ll be good, I’ll be a better man.”

Rafael could feel his heart shattering into pieces. He knew exactly how guilty Sonny felt about hurting him, even though Rafael couldn’t bring himself to blame him. How could he, considering everything? But to hear Sonny say those words, suggesting that somehow he had been less than because of everything that had happened, everything he had done… 

“Nicky,” Rafael sighed, pulling Sonny into his arms. “Its not your fault,” he repeated it a few times, “Its not your fault. I don’t blame you.” His eye was tender, but didn’t hurt nearly as much as the distance between them, even in each other’s arms. 

“I’m hurting you, Rafi,” tears were still wetting his cheeks, and Rafael wasn’t sure how there was any water left to cry. “I’m hurting you and I can’t even stop myself.” His hands clutched at Rafael’s sides, but they were desperate and loving. But Rafael can’t shake the memory of when Sonny’s hands were gripping him for an entirely different purpose. “I’m not strong enough to walk away from you, even though you’re better off with out me.” Sonny finally admitted, his face pressed into the crook of Rafael’s neck. 

“Stop it,” Rafael replied, his tone biting, “stop this. I’m not better off without you, I don’t want to hear you say it again.” Sonny moved, ready to respond but Rafael cut him off. “I have been here, Nicky. I’ve been here the whole time. We’ve been together for three years, and I’m not about to let go of you just because you’re struggling now, but it can’t keep going like this. Because I’ve been here and its like you don’t even see me. You go and you talk to your therapist, and I’m not sure what you say to her, but you convince yourself you’re okay again and you’re not.” Rafael frowned. “You’re not okay, and I understand that. But you have to stop shutting me out, I need you to talk to me, Corazon. I need you to tell me how I can help you.”

Sonny drew in a shaky breath as he untangled himself from Rafael’s embrace. He wiped one eye with the hem of his sleeve, and then the other. “I didn’t even realize he was the perp.” His voice was quivering, but it was the first time he had ever even referenced the man to Rafael. “He seemed so nice, you know? And I was just tryin’ to play the part. I usually get a feelin’ about people, but he just seemed so ordinary…” his voice trailed off, but Rafael knew exactly how much of a break through it was. “I was just gonna flirt with him for a bit and make an excuse to duck out,” his fist clenched, balled up in the fabric of Rafael’s pajamas. “I don’t even remember how he got me to that room, must have knocked me out or drugged me or something.”  
Sonny didn’t say anything else, and they sat in silence on the bathroom floor for a while before Rafael reached over to take his hand. “Nicky,” he started slowly, “there’s nothing you could ever say to me that would change the way I feel about you,” he brought the sallow hand closer to his face, brushing his lips against Sonny’s knuckles. “You’re the best man I know. You are.” He reiterated before Sonny had a chance to deny it. “I love you.”

Sonny pulled his hand out of Rafael’s grip gently, and he traced one gentle finger around the shape of the black and blue bruise still marring Rafael’s tanned face. “I haven’t felt this in a long time.” Rafael cocked his head to the side slightly, a questioning look on his face. “Hope.” Sonny clarified. 

Rafael felt it too.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not betaed, I don't have one for this fandom and also I have impulse control issues. If anyone would be interested in editing future fics of mine, let me know, I'd appreciate it.


End file.
